Nightmares and Dreamscapes
by The Blue Raven
Summary: We all have dreams; we all have nightmares; we all have sleepless nights. In this series of one-shots, I examine what form each of those things take at the Sanctuary.
1. Summary and Info

**Nightmares and Dreamscapes**

**Summary:** We all have dreams; we all have nightmares; we all have sleepless nights. In this series of one-shots, I examine what form each of those things take at the Sanctuary. Focuses on various individuals and relationships, with a focus on Magnus, Will, Henry/Ashley, Magnus/Druitt, and the Magnus/Will friendship. Among other relationships touched upon, because they really are one big (if somewhat unusual) family.

**Rating:** PG -- some bed-hopping goes on in some of the fics but no actual sex. In fact, _most_ of the bed-hopping is more social than romantic (I'm a cuddle-slut and sometimes it spills over into my fics).

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing and I turn no profit. Please don't sue me. Seriously, blood and stones come to mind. I'd have to sell plasma just to cover your filing costs.

**Feedback:** Feedback is love, even if you don't actually _like_ the story. My take on negative reviews is that, as long as they're constructive, they can actually _teach_ me something and hopefully make me a better writer. So, seriously, _do_ let me know what you think.

**Spoiler info (where applicable) and Timeline are given at the beginning of each individual story. These stories are not necessarily meant to be taken in chronological order and since they're one-shots, they don't relate back to each other. No larger mythology that I'm trying to build here or anything.**

**Author's Note:** Thanks as always to Kameka for the beta. Quack, m'dear.

**Author's Note: **I know that I show a softer Ashley here than is usually seen in the light of day, but some of us are only comfortable letting our guard down at night and in private with our close friends. She strikes me as the type. If you disagree, feel free to let me know.

**Author's Note:** If there's something you'd _like_ to see that I haven't done yet, feel free to drop me a line and let me know. No promises, but I'll certainly give it my best shot.

**Stories **(and the characters and ships that appear in them):

**Wish-Fulfillment Dreams** (Magnus, Druitt, minor Will Henry and Ashley; Magnus/Druitt)

**The "Predator"/"Prey" Dynamic** (Henry, Ashley, minor Magnus; Henry/Ashley)

_**Now**_** I Remember** (Will and Magnus; Will/Magnus friendship)

"**Monsters": It Takes One to Know One** (Henry, Ashley, minor Will; Henry/Ashley)

**Tea For Two** (Magnus and Will; Magnus/Will friendship)

_**Not**_** Her Father's Daughter** (Will, Ashley, Henry; Henry/Ashley)

**What Becomes of the Broken-Hearted?** (Magnus and Druitt; Magnus/Druitt)


	2. 1 Wish Fulfillment Dreams

**Timeline:** Any time in the first season, but probably before "The Five".

**Wish-Fulfillment Dreams**

Helen woke with a gasp, tears in her eyes.

"What is it, Helen?" a sleepy voice asked.

She reached out until she found John's chest, feeling his heartbeat against her palm. It soothed her, allowing her fear-stilled heart to beat again. She drew a deep breath, unaware she had been holding it until that moment.

"Sorry to wake you, John."

"You didn't. I was just lying here thinking. Now, what's wrong?"

"I had that dream again."

His laugh reached her ears in the darkness, bringing a smile to her face. In short order, she found herself in his arms, cradled against his chest as he kissed away her tears.

"How many times do I have to reassure you that I'm _not_ Jack the Ripper?" he chuckled, nuzzling her throat.

"It's absurd, I know, along with everything else about that ridiculous dream. It just seems so compellingly _real_ while I'm having it."

"Yes, because it makes such perfect sense that, in a hundred years time, you will be the leader of a worldwide network of Sanctuaries for abnormals, so interconnected that you may communicate across oceans in the space of a heartbeat, even sending a moving image of yourself through the air."

"The whole thing is absurd, I know. James says the nightmares reflect some secret fear I have that I cannot confess, even to myself."

"James is a clever man, but how can you have a fear that you don't _know_ you have?"

"I don't know, but in my dreams, the young doctor calls it 'subconscious'."

"Beneath the level of awareness?" he asked. "How patently absurd." Holding her closer, he asked, "And, in these dreams, do you care for this 'young doctor' more than you do for me?"

"Well, I'm quite fond of him, John, but in a different sort of way. It's more like having a grown son to share my work with."

His hand drifted to her swollen stomach. "Perhaps it _is_ some sort of premonition? A _son_…"

"Not a natural one. In the dreams, our child is always a daughter. Would you mind that?"

"Not if she's like you."

"She isn't. At least, not in the dreams. Shockingly improper creature." She smiled, shaking her head.

"More so than her mother?"

"She makes me seem downright prim."

"Now _there_ is a distressing thought. No wonder you call them nightmares."

She shook her head. "So much about them is strange, or unfamiliar, or plain _frightening_. I could hardly describe it all to you if I tried."

He kissed the top of her head. "And is _any_ of it more distressing than the idea that your own husband is your mortal enemy?"

"What could be more distressing than _that_?" she countered.

He chuckled again. "Nothing I can think of. I certainly would never wish _you_ for an enemy."

She smiled and stretched, rubbing the small of her back.

"Hurting you?" he asked, sliding one hand down to rub the sore spot.

"Oh, not anymore."

"I spoke with your father. Unfortunately, there's not much we can give you for the discomfort that doesn't risk harm to the baby."

"I know. That's why I haven't been complaining about it."

"Well, Nigel is forever offering to make you up a poultice, and I don't see how _that_ could do either of you any harm."

"Well, it certainly sounds better than what Nicola recommends."

"Let me guess: the application of an electrical current?"

She giggled into his chest, nodding.

"Typical," John laughed. "I hope you told him no?"

"I told him I'd take his hand off if he tried it."

"Good."

"Mmm, what time is it?"

"It feels like early morning. Here, shield your eyes."

She did so as he lit a candle, narrowing her lids and staring at the grandfather clock that had been a present from her father upon their marriage.

"If we get up now, we'll be able to see the sun coming up," he noted.

She was tired, but more than willing to share such a glorious sight with her beloved, so she nodded eagerly, wiggling free of his tender hold and swinging her legs over the edge of the bed. She shivered as her bare feet touched the wood floor.

"Stay there," he directed, jumping out of bed and going to retrieve her slippers. Kneeling before her, he slipped them onto her feet, smiling up at her. "The swelling's down," he noted, brushing his fingers against her ankle.

"Yes, the dietary changes Father recommended really seem to have helped."

"Yes, well, your father is almost as brilliant as his daughter."

She waved a dismissive hand. "Oh, stop it, John. You make me feel like a schoolgirl again."

"A husband's privilege, I should think," he answered with a wicked grin.

"If you _value_ 'a husband's privilege'," she warned with mock severity.

He chuckled again, helping her to her feet. "Shall we go down to the garden, or did you want to stay in the sitting room where it's warm?"

It _was_ chilly, but the view of the sunrise from the garden was unparalleled. "Let's go outside."

"Very well," he agreed placidly, wrapping her in a heavy robe before offering his arm.

Smiling, she took it, leaning on him more for the sake of closeness than support. He smiled down at her, looking as ridiculously happy as he had on their wedding day. She could hardly fault him; she still frequently felt giddy with love herself.

He stopped long enough to retrieve two heavy blankets before they left the house, spreading one on the stone bench before he would let her sit. When she was comfortable, he sat down next to her, drawing her close and wrapping the second blanket around both of them.

Their breath was visible in the chill pre-dawn air, but she felt remarkably warm sitting bundled up with Montague John Druitt of the Five.

"Could things be any better?" she wondered aloud.

"They will be when our child joins us. Otherwise, no. I can't think of one other thing we're lacking."

"Nor I," she agreed, smiling up at him.

They sat in silence for some time, until a smudge of purple appeared on the horizon.

"Many patients today?" he asked as they watched it spread.

"Only one. She moves things with her mind. That alone wouldn't be alarming, but she can't always control the ability."

"I can see where that might cause problems. What do you plan on doing?"

"I'm recommending a course of meditation and self-examination until she can learn to control herself."

"Will it work?"

"In my experience and my father's, the more self-aware an individual becomes, the better chance they have of controlling their gifts. Discipline is important as well, naturally, but it can't come without an understanding of what triggers the ability in the first place."

"That makes sense, but will she be able to remain unnoticed until she learns?"

"It seems unlikely," she answered with a little shake of the head. "I've arranged for her to receive sanctuary from a group of sequestered nuns Father is acquainted with until she's ready to return to normal society."

"My wife thinks of everything, doesn't she?" he asked, smiling proudly.

"Well, she certainly _attempts_ to, John." She shrugged. "The geographic isolation and unconditional acceptance by the Sisters will do her good, I think. She can focus on her abilities instead of on what others might think if they knew. It will make all of this _so_ much easier for her."

"My wife is as compassionate as she is intelligent," he murmured, absently rearranged her hair.

She submitted to his fussing for some minutes, before murmuring, "The sunrise, John."

"It can't be as radiant as _you_," he answered, tucking another lock behind her ear rather than watching the sun.

"John, it's _beautiful_. Look."

His hand found hers as they watched the sun put in its appearance, bringing with it the promise of a new day. The colors were brilliant, as infinite as the variations on human life. And it brought with it warmth, as love itself did.

"Oh, John," she breathed, shaking her head, unable to tear her eyes from the sight.

His hand tightened around hers. "Helen…"

She let out a soft laugh, her heart feeling as if it might burst. After a night of dreadful dreams of a time and place not her own, of people and technologies she could not understand, of fears and doubts and uncertainties and conflicts…

Yes, the sunrise was _precisely_ what she needed to dispel all of that.

"I live in a world where I know my role," she told him quietly when the array of colors had faded to blue sky and yellow sun alone.

He glanced curiously down at her. "Is that so?"

"Mmm, it is my place to help my patients and raise our children to follow in our steps, taking up our work themselves when the time comes. That's all. Nothing less and nothing _more_."

"What more _could_ there be than simply helping people?"

"I don't know," she confessed, troubled.

"Hmm, well, then it's probably not important," he answered, kissing her cheek. "And I must run or I'll be late for my appointment at the university. However, _you_ still have several hours yet before your patient arrives. Why don't you get a little more rest? I suspect you need it."

"Yes," she admitted, nodding. "I'm afraid pregnancy is taking more out of me than I had expected it to."

"I can't imagine why. You're merely growing a complete other human-being within your own body." Smiling, he helped her to her feet and walked her back up to their room. "Ah, good. The maid hasn't made the bed yet. I'll leave instructions that you not be disturbed for a few hours."

"Thank you, John," she yawned, climbing back into the still-warm bed. "Mmm, that feels nice…"

"Helen Druitt!" John chuckled. "I had no idea when I married you that you were such a sensualist."

"I'm sure you didn't." She smiled slyly up at him. "But, as you haven't complained once since, I can't believe it troubles you greatly. In fact, John, I rather suspect you _like_ it."

"You could have something there," he agreed, bending to kiss her.

Sighing softly, she looped one hand around the back of his neck to hold his face close to hers even after he broke off the tender kiss.

"I love you, John," she whispered, smiling as her lips brushed against his with every word. "Don't _ever_ change."

"I won't if you don't," he promised, giving her a last kiss. Reluctantly, "I really should be going."

"Yes," she admitted, shrugging. "I'll be waiting here when you get home."

"You'll be waiting for me _here_?" He raised an eyebrow. "In _bed_?"

"John!" she laughed, swatting his shoulder.

He smiled. "I'll see you later, Helen. Now get some rest. You need it in your state."

She pushed herself up on one arm, watching him as he got dressed and then left. Sighing happily, she fell back against her pillow. Her smile widening, she grabbed _his_ pillow, holding it to her nose and inhaling deeply, one hand resting on her stomach as she drank in the scent of her beloved.

"Life is good," she informed the room at large before settling down again and closing her eyes.

She lay there for some time, merely luxuriating in all the things that made being Mrs. Helen Druitt such a wonderful experience. A loving husband, a thriving practice, some of the very best friends a woman could have, a child on the way…

Eventually, not even reflecting on what a beautiful life it was could keep her awake any longer. Smiling, she allowed the darkness to claim her.

0101010

Naturally, it was as dark when she woke up as it had been in the windowless room when she woke up the first time. With a single, telling difference.

A red LED display showed the time as just past two in the morning.

"_Bugger,_" she muttered, closing her eyes again as warmth and contentedness faded.

It was a beautiful dream, left her feeling _so_ wonderful while she was having it, but _waking up_ from it…

With another curse, she threw back her covers and sat up. There was no getting back to sleep on nights like this, never had been.

To lay alone and quiet in the dark after dreaming of everything that could have been, everything that _should_ have been, was to invited self-recrimination even though, realistically, none of what had gone wrong had been her fault. She still blamed herself, felt she should have seen the signs earlier, somehow saved John from himself. Seen the dangers inherent in using the Source Blood…

If only she _had_, the dream would have been the reality, and the reality the nightmare. And such thinking could easily drive a woman mad, so she forced it from her mind, stepping out of bed and walking over to her computer desk. _Anything_ to take her mind off of that wonderful dream.

There was _always_ work to be done, for which she was grateful at times like these. Pulling up her email, she saw that the reports on morning briefings in the Far East were just starting to come in. Normally, she would review those in the morning, but Henry had some new security protocols he wanted to discuss with her, so it was just as well to take care of her correspondence now to leave her morning open for Henry.

She was quickly caught up in a report detailing a bashe sighting in southern China, an event which would almost certainly necessitate the presence of herself and her team.

By the time the morning briefing rolled around, she could not even remember which nightmare had interrupted her sleep this time. It hardly mattered; there were, after all, so many. None were particularly important.

"Good morning, everyone," she greeted them, distributing the files she had hastily thrown together.

Will raised an eyebrow as he perused his copy. "It's a _dragon_…"

"Sweet," Henry muttered, grinning.

"This won't be fun," was Ashley's contribution, although Magnus could see her mentally putting together a list of the weapons and equipment they would need.

"Now, heavy poaching has driven the creatures nearly to the point of extinction," Magnus began.

And so another day dawned at the Sanctuary…

**End**


	3. 2 The PredatorPrey Dynamic

**Timeline:** Pre-"Revelations"

**The "Predator"/"Prey" Dynamic**

Henry knew he was dreaming simply because, in waking life, he could not be dragged away from his lab long enough to spend any time in the forest. Well, okay, so in waking life he was still sensitive enough about his heritage to consciously reject any activities that brought him close to the land.

Hunting and nature hikes were definitely on the top of that list, and he seemed to be engaged in a medley of the two now. He was walking through a primordial forest, tracking.

A footprint here, a broken branch there. The faint scent of deodorant and body-wash and a trace of warmth lingering in the chill air. All served to bring him closer to his prey.

And prey she was. He was in fullon hunter-mode as he so often was in his dreams. Ashley could run but she could not hide. He _would_ find her. And when he had…

He smiled in anticipation, pushing his way into the underbrush where she had left the path, presumably in hopes of evading him for longer. Ridiculous. The heavy growth would slow her down and make her trail a thousand times easier to detect.

Like he needed the visual markers when he could _smell_ her distinctive blend of body-products and gun-oil. He followed _that_ as much as he followed the crushed ferns and bent branches, savoring the aroma.

There was no reek of anxiety or fear in the array of smells she was emitting; this was _Ashley_, after all. If anything, the chase was exciting her, which Henry could more than relate to. The hunt was freeing, exhilarating. And the knowledge of what waited at the end…

Laughing, he pressed his advantage. When he found Ashley, she was in a natural clearing, looking around, clearly trying to decide where to go next, how to best shake off his pursuit.

"Sorry, Red. The wolf has you now."

"_Crap,_" Ashley muttered, darting back towards the trees.

"Oh, no you don't," he answered, throwing his arms around her waist and pulling her back towards him.

They went over backwards together, Ashley flailing and Henry struggling to keep hold of her. Both were laughing when the fall started, but they landed hard and Ashley's not-inconsiderable weight slamming into him moments after he slammed into the ground took his breath away, making laughter impossible. It became a struggle just to hang on to the squirming girl.

Ashley's movement was _not_ without purpose. Within moments, she had wiggled around to face him, bringing herself nose-to-nose with the werewolf.

"Not bad," she told him, still laughing. "Only took you about ten minutes to find me once you got started."

"Hate to break it to you, Ash, but, when you aren't in the city, you move like prey. Hard _not_ to track you. Oh and, next time, you might try not _smelling_ so damned good."

"_Henry!_"

"What?" he answered with an innocent smile.

"You are such a dog!"

"You say that like it's a bad thing."

"Henry!" She shook her head. "Going to let me go now?"

"Mmm… no."

"So, we're just going to lay here all day?" she demanded, looking amused.

"Why not? I'm comfy. View's not bad, either."

She swatted him.

"Hey! Where's the love?"

Eyes sparkling with mischief, she managed to free one hand and lift it to his face. He swallowed hard, staring into her eyes. Damn, she was beautiful. She promptly started scratching him behind the ear.

"_Who's a good boy?_" she asked, her tone exactly that of a woman talking to a puppy. "_Who's a __**good**__ boy?_"

He made a face. Even in his _dreams_, he couldn't get her to take him seriously. Fracking typical…

"Cut it out, Ash," he sighed, releasing his hold on her to grab her offending hand.

A minor melee ensued as each struggled to get the upper hand, as it were. Henry was not really surprised that Ashley had him pinned to the ground by his wrists within a few seconds. She knelt there, straddling him with a triumphant expression.

Sighing again, he closed his eyes, waiting for whatever humiliation she had planned for him next. It probably said something about him that his dreams, when not violent, tended to center around degradation at the hands of the people he loved the most.

Ashley's next move took him completely by surprised. She kissed the tip of his nose.

Okay, _that_ was new…

He opened his eyes and stared up at her. "Ash?"

Her next words did not really seem to answer his unspoken question. "It's nice out here. Wild. Kinda… _primal_."

He looked around. "It's okay, I guess, but I'd rather be in my lab where it's warm and dry."

"And where Mom or Will could walk in on us at any time?" she asked, grinning and shaking her head. "Nope. Definitely _not_ a place where I would pin you to the ground and have my way with you."

His heart seemed to have lodged itself in his throat, so he swallowed again. "And were you… planning on 'having your way with me' now?"

She shrugged. "The thought had occurred to me."

"I think I like this dream."

Ashley smiled and leaned over him again, her hair brushing his cheeks. Oh, yeah, _definitely_ superior to his typical dreams.

"Uh, would you mind letting go of my hands?" he asked. "'Cause I really think I'd like to put my arms around you right now."

Her hands left his wrists and moved to cup his face instead, her thumbs lightly running over his stubble.

"Better?"

"Much," he assured her, reaching up to tuck her hair behind her ears so he could see her face. "You know, normally when I dream about you, things don't go like this."

"That's because you have issues, Henry," she pointed out. "You want me, but you feel guilty for it." She leaned down until her lips brushed his with every word. "Only suddenly you _don't feel so guilty_. So what changed?"

"I… don't know," he whispered, closing his eyes and just enjoying the tickle of her lips against his. It was nothing like kissing, but it felt _good_. "But it's a change I could find myself getting used to."

"I don't know. You're not big on self-awareness, but I can't see this simplifying anything with the _real_ Ashley."

"Shit," he sighed, turning his head away. "Good point. I wouldn't be able to look at her in the morning, would I?"

"Like I said, _issues_." She kissed his cheek. "Should I let you up now?"

"I hate my dreams, you know that?"

"I know, Henry," she answered, patting his cheek and climbing off of him. "You'd almost rather have the dream where you're naked at the electronics trade-show."

He shrugged and sat up. "At least in that one I get to play with some cool toys first. Nearly getting to kiss you only to have my own sense of shame get in the way, that's just _frustrating_, Ash."

"So _do_ something about it. Oh, you know, maybe in _real life_?"

"No!" he answered shortly, shaking his head. "Just drop it."

No way was he about to get into an argument with his own subconscious about whether or not he should make a move on Ashley. It was _not_ going to happen. For one thing, Ashley would break every bone in his body if he ever tried it. For another, it was just weird talking about Ashley with a representation of his subconscious that looked just like her.

When he looked again, Will was sitting where Ashley had been. "Better?" he asked.

"Marginally, and definitely more appropriate for heart-spilling, but I'm _still_ not having this argument."

"Anyone ever told you that you have weird dreams?"

"You know I don't tell people about most of my dreams. Not even the _real_ you."

"True. You don't communicate _much_ of yourself to those around you."

"God, now you _do_ sound like the real Will."

"Look, all I'm saying is that it wouldn't hurt to open up a little with the people who care about you. Will, Ashley, _Magnus_…"

"Hey! I'm plenty open with Doctor Magnus."

"About your _symptoms_, sure. But not about your thoughts and feelings, your hopes and fears."

"I think I preferred this dream when I was still pinned to the forest floor."

"Well, I'd offer, but I don't think it would have the same impact with me looking like this."

"My subconscious is a smart-ass," Henry observed.

"Only because it's a reflection of your _conscious_ mind." Will shrugged. "Seriously, Henry. How long are you going to keep pining for Ashley before you just _say_ something?"

"I happen to _like_ being friends with her. So I'm _not_ going to risk ruining that. _Ever._"

"How is that _worth_ it?"

"I told you, I'm not doing this debate."

"Yeah, well, obviously there's a part of you that _wants_ to."

"That part of me doesn't make the rules, not any more than the wolf part of me does. Subject closed."

"Speaking of your inner wolf, he'd like you to spend more time in the great outdoors."

"Okay, now that one might actually be negotiable."

"Ashley likes to camp," Will pointed out.

"Don't start!"

"A guy's got to at least _try_, Henry," he answered. "So, anyway, time in the great outdoors? There are some _great_ parks around here."

"I guess Magnus could do without me for a day or two," he admitted. "Might be good to get away, not think about work all the time. Kind of like hitting a mental reset."

"They invented mental health days for a reason. Something to consider."

"I'll think about it," he agreed.

"That makes your inner wolf very happy. And a happy wolf is a wolf that doesn't try to come out and play at inopportune moments."

Henry opened his mouth to respond when the sound of the alarm clock edged into his awareness.

"And that's my cue to go," he said.

"We'll see you again tonight, Henry."

"Lucky me," he answered, opening his eyes.

Alone in his bedroom, he sighed and shook his head. He _definitely_ would have preferred the 'naked at the electronics trade-show' dream. Debating his lack of a love-life with himself was just depressing. At least the trade-show dream had cool gadgets.

He turned off his alarm clock, leaving his room and shuffling in the direction of the kitchen. Always an early riser, he still needed a massive infusion of caffeine before he could start to feel remotely human.

When he reached the kitchen, Ashley was sitting on the countertop devouring an enormous slice of the Big Guy's truly decedent German Chocolate cake with coconut-pecan frosting.

"Your mom would _flip_ if she caught you eating that for breakfast," he told her.

"That's why I'm trying to finish it before she wakes up," Ashley answered, taking another large bite. Around a mouthful of cake, she said, "Cut me some slack. I had a rough night."

He frowned. "You okay?"

"Yeah, just…" She shrugged. "You know how it is."

"Job stress?"

"Yeah." She made a face. "I mean, hunting monsters is great and everything, but it's high-pressure. I'm thinking of taking a few days off, getting away."

"Really? Me, too."

She frowned at him. "Henry, you _never_ take time off."

"Yeah, well, a certain hairy friend of mine informs me that I need to spend some quality time with Mother Nature." He shrugged. "Thought I might rent a cabin, do some hiking."

"We could go camping," she suggested.

"_We?_"

"Sure, like when we were kids. Only this time with booze and no Mom looking over our shoulders." She grinned. "Come on. It'll be fun."

"It _sounds_ like fun," he admitted.

"Cool, it's a date." She took another bite of cake, swallowing hastily as her mother entered the kitchen. "Hey!"

"Good morning, Ashley," Magnus answered absently. "Good morning, Henry." Her eyes fell on the remains of the piece of cake sitting on the countertop. "Oh, _really_, Ashley!"

"Uh, actually, Doc, I'm the one who woke up with a chocolate craving this morning," Henry told her, earning a grateful glance from Ashley.

"Well, _you_ should know better as well," Magnus answered. "Given your physiology, you should be considerably more careful what you ingest."

"I know, I know. Dogs and chocolate don't mix," Henry muttered, taking a bite of the cake. He would pay for it later, but it really _was_ excellent cake.

"Mom, Henry and I need a few days off," Ashley told her, deftly changing the subject.

Magnus frowned. "Whatever for?"

"Mental health leave. We're going camping."

"_Together?_"

"Yeah." Ashley nodded. "Problem?"

"No, not at all. Just remember to bring weapons. You know that not all the abnormals who live in the local forests are friendly."

"Guns and tasers, check." Ashley nodded.

Magnus smiled and walked over to the refrigerator. "And if one of you could bring your cell phone so I can get in touch with you in case of an emergency."

"Like Henry ever goes _anywhere_ without his phone," Ashley laughed, hopping down off the counter. "Come on, Henry. I'll help you pack."

"We're going _now_?"

"No time like the present," Magnus observed. "Crisis-free times are to be exploited whenever they present themselves. You two have fun."

"Oh, don't worry, Mom," Ashley answered with a smile that made Henry a little nervous about what he was getting himself into. "We'll _definitely_ have fun…"

**End**


	4. 3 Now I Remember

**Timeline:** Between "Sanctuary for All" and "Fata Morgana"

_**Now**_** I Remember**

"Mom!" Will shouted as the monster grabbed him by the ankles and started dragging.

"Will, hide!" she called, rushing towards them with a large stick. She raised it over her head and brought it down hard on the monster's shoulder.

The creature abandoned Will, spinning and…

"_**Mom!**_" he shrieked, watching in terror as sharp claws ripped through her shirt, leaving a spreading red stain in their wake.

Mom looked down at her chest with an expression of surprise. "_Will…_" Then her knees crumpled and she hit the ground in an untidy heap.

With a sound like thunder, the creature jerked back before turning and running.

"Go!" a strangely-accented female voice ordered. "Do _not_ let it escape!"

Will shook off his paralysis, taking a step towards his fallen mother as a man dropped to his knees next to her, rolling her onto her back. Hands grasped his shoulders and pulled him back, not roughly but with too much strength for a child to resist.

He was drawn back until he could not clearly make out every wound on his mother's body. The man who had been kneeling next to her rose and shook his head.

"I'm sorry, Doctor."

"Go help the others," the woman directed, wrapping Will in a blanket and picking him up, cradling him to her chest. The smell of lavender washed over him.

"Mom?" he wavered.

"It's all right," she murmured, rubbing his back and holding him close. "You're safe now." She spent a moment more looking over the campsite, then turned away. "Let's bring you somewhere warm."

"_Mom?_" he repeated more insistently as she started walking. He went rigid in her arms, struggling.

"Don't be afraid, son," she whispered. "You're safe now. Drink this. It'll make you feel better."

A cup was pressed into his hands. Cocoa. He didn't want any, but he took a sip because good boys always did what adults said.

"And a little more," she urged, sitting down and not loosening her firm hold on him.

Her touch was comforting, like her smell. He took another sip of the cocoa, and its warmth spread through him, making him feel a little less empty inside.

"It'll all be better soon," the woman assured him in her pretty voice. "By tomorrow, tonight will seem like a dream to you. It won't seem real and, just maybe, that'll give you a chance at a normal life." She smiled down at him, looking sad.

"But, my mom?"

"I'm sorry." She bent and pressed her lips to his forehead. "Just rest now."

"Doctor," a man said, jogging up to them. "We have to go. The cops are almost here."

"Tell me you managed to get the body disposed of?"

"It's on its way back to the Sanctuary now."

"Good. The rest of you go. I'll wait nearby until they find him."

"Doctor," he began, shaking his head.

"It's a cold night. I want to make sure he's found promptly. Now _go_. And tell Ashley that her mum will be along shortly."

"Yes, Doctor." He nodded and moved off.

"I have to go now," she told Will, kissing his forehead again. "But I'll be close by, watching over you. I'll keep you safe," she promised. "Believe me?"

He nodded weakly. "I'm tired."

"I know. Rest now. I'll be watching. Be brave, dear-heart."

She transferred him from her lap onto the bench she had been sitting on, making sure he was snuggly wrapped in the blanket. Eyes growing heavy, he watched her go, melting into the shadows of a nearby copse of trees. When he was finally able to resist sleep no longer, he was still aware of two things: sirens nearby and a woman's silhouette watching him from the trees.

0101010

Will woke abruptly but without moving or making a sound. Everything about that night had always seemed like a dream, and no wonder if this latest mental reconstruction was accurate.

Magnus had drugged the cocoa. It must have seemed the kindest thing to her and Will was not sure he could argue. Remembering that night with any kind of clarity would have been horrible beyond words. The disjointed flashes he still occasionally suffered even in the light of day were bad enough.

Her gift to him continued: he could lay in bed, reflecting on the full sequence of events without particularly strong emotion.

Yes, his mother had been killed horribly and he had been rescued by a band of monster hunters and then left to be found on a park bench, but that was well in the past. He had come to terms with his mother's death long since, perhaps in part thanks to the intervention of Magnus.

He could not be angry at her. In modern psychiatry, it was not unheard of to administer large doses of certain drugs to a patient who had just experienced an extremely horrific event. It could help stave off, or at least reduce the severity of, post-traumatic stress disorder.

But how had Magnus known that all those years ago? Had she, in fact, spiked his cocoa with beta blockers at all, or had his exhaustion been nothing but a stress-reaction? Was _any_ of the dream an accurate recollection?

He could almost have dismissed it as nothing but a reconstruction, possibly quite accurate but still by no means a recollection. Except…

Lavender.

To this day, the mere scent was enough to diffuse tension or anxiety. To make him feel _safe_. Protected. Likewise the taste of hot cocoa.

And there was the blanket the police had found him wrapped in. He might merely have inserted that detail into the dream based on the knowledge that there _had_ been a blanket, but somehow he doubted it. It just felt too much like the sort of thing Magnus would _do_.

Well, there was one way to find out.

He climbed to his feet, shrugging on his robe and heading for her office, fully intending to ask her outright. It was early enough that she was likely to still be there, hard at work.

And she was.

"Oh, good evening, Will," she greeted him with a distracted smile, staring at her computer screen and chewing her lower lip.

"Problem?" he asked, approaching her desk.

"Oh, it's this infernal thing." She waved an aggravated hand at the computer. "For an intelligent woman, I can occasionally be remarkably inept at its operation."

"Well, you didn't exactly grow up with the technology the way the rest of us did," he pointed out, circling the desk to stare at the screen. "What's wrong?"

"I'm getting a security error message every time I attempt to access the Sanctuary hub. See?" She pointed to the error on ther screen.

"I get that sometimes. It doesn't really like cookies that much. When's the last time you deleted yours?"

His question was met with a blank frown.

"That long?" he asked, laughing and leaning around her to type on the keyboard.

Lavender flooded his senses and, though he had never really thought about it before, it smelled right on Magnus. Familiar. It was, he realized belatedly, her favorite.

"In the morning, you can have Henry program the computer to automatically delete them once a week for you," he told her, pulling up the internet settings and erasing all her temporary files. "For now, this should do you." He pulled up the hub that connected all the world's Sanctuaries. "See, there you go."

She smiled at him. "Thank you, Will."

"No problem." He cleared his throat. "It occurs to me. I never did thank you."

She frowned. "What for, Will?"

"Saving my life."

She colored slightly, shaking her head. "That's my job, Will."

"Maybe," he agreed. "But the blanket and the cocoa were above and beyond."

Her expression turned bemused. "You remember?"

"I remember the drugs, too."

"Oh." Her expression turned wary, and mildly apologetic. "And?"

"And, they worked. I still developed PTSD, but it could have been a lot worse. So, thanks for those, too."

She smiled sadly. "I never told you because I was afraid you might consider it one more betrayal."

He shook his head. "If you brought a child to me now who had watched a monster rip his mother apart five minutes previous, I'd probably do the exact same thing. I'm not sure _how_ you knew to do it, or whether I really want to know, but thanks."

"I wish I could have done more."

"You did enough. Hell, you probably saved my sanity as well as my life that night."

"Your own inner strength is largely to thank for _that_." She gave a faint shake of her head. "I should really get back to work. Get some sleep, Will. Sweet dreams."

"You know, it's funny. For once I feel like that might actually be possible."

She smiled. "I'm glad for you, Will. Now, shall I see you to your room and tuck you in?"

He grinned, taking the hint. "I'll let you get back to work. Night, Magnus."

He went back to his room, shedding his robe and climbing back into his still-warm bed. The panic that always accompanied lying alone in the dark started to rise in him, but was abruptly quelled.

"_It's all right. You're safe now."_

He smiled, feeling not just better but actually, for once, ready to face sleep without a fight.

"I know I am, Magnus. Thanks."

**End**


	5. 4 Monsters: It Takes One to Know One

**Timeline:** Immediately after "The Five"

"**Monsters": It Takes One to Know One**

It was late, but that seldom stopped Henry from hacking around the 'net. Only difference was that he was doing it in his bedroom instead of in his lab. Since his change, he felt like being alone most of the time anyway. Less chance that anyone would come to socialize here. He looked up at the sound of light knocking on the door, wondering what anyone could need from him at this hour.

More alarmed than curious, he popped a valium and went to answer the door.

"Ash?" he asked when he saw her standing there. "Hey, when did you get back? Welcome home." Then he noticed how red and puffy her eyes were. "Come in. What happened?"

He ushered her inside and closed the door behind them. Ashley immediately dropped onto his bed, shoulders slumped.

"Ash, what's going on?" he asked, crouching in front of her. "Did something happen?"

"Druitt."

"Did he _do_ something to you?" Henry demanded, ready to hunt the man down and rip him to pieces. Granted, it would probably get him killed, but the bastard deserved it!

Not looking at him, she whispered, "He's my father."

Henry really did not think there were words for that. At least, nothing came to mind that wasn't an expletive.

Sighing, he climbed to his feet and went to the top of the bed, settling himself against the headboard and opening his arms.

"Come here."

Ashley hesitated for a moment, then slid into his arms and buried her face in his chest the way she had as a child.

"It's going to be okay," he promised, holding her tight.

Ashley's only answer to this was a small sigh. She just sat there for better than five minutes with her cheek against his chest. It would have been kind of a turn-on if she hadn't been so damned upset. As it was, it was more than a little heartbreaking.

When she tried to straighten, he made no effort to loosen his hold on her.

She froze. "Henry…"

"This doesn't make you weak, Ash, and it does _not_ go beyond that door. You're safe here."

Her entire body started to shake, and tears spilled down her cheek.

"Shh, shh," he murmured, holding her close and rocking her.

Ashley let out a sob, clinging to his shirt with both hands.

"It's okay, you're okay," he soothed, rubbing her back. "Just let it out. You'll feel better."

"Damn it, Henry, I _never_ cry!" she sobbed.

"Well, it's not exactly like you don't have a _reason_ to. Let go, let it happen. Trust me, it helps."

She looked up at him with wide eyes.

"I _do_ have my own emo crap going on right now," he reminded her. "Not quite on par with yours, granted, but still… I, uh, I kind of transformed while you were away."

Wide eyes grew wider and she lifted her hand to his cheek. "Oh, Henry! Are you okay?"

"I don't know. Doesn't matter. This is about _you_."

"No reason it can't be about both of us. Our lives suck. We're both monsters."

"You are _not_ a monster!"

"That's debatable. Look at my father. No wonder I get off on violence."

Okay, _not_ really something he needed to know about his best friend, _especially_ when that friend was a woman he was kind of crushing on…

"At least I'm in good company." She smiled sadly and leaned into his chest again.

After a moment, she patted his chest and straightened. He let her go this time, smiling and brushing a lock of hair out of her face.

"Feeling better?"

"Yeah, thanks." She smiled. "I'll let you get back to your computer."

"You could stay."

Oh, dear God, had he just actually said that _out loud_?

Ashley was staring at him with a look of total shock. Not indignation, strangely enough, just shock.

"I'm just… not so sure you should be alone tonight is all," he explained. "I've known you a long time and, nothing personal, but you can be pretty volatile when bad news hits."

"Volatile? Gee, wonder which parent I inherited _that_ from?" she muttered.

"Ash, I mean it. I don't want to leave you alone tonight. Look, I'll sleep on the floor, okay? Just stay here."

She shook her head. "I'm not kicking you out of your own bed. It's not like we've never shared before."

The difference being that, back then, Ashley had been adorable as opposed to hot and Henry had yet to sprout a libido. The fact that she still saw the situation in those terms was not the biggest ego-boost a guy could be given, but it was still good to know that she was that comfortable around him. Especially given the whole _werewolf_ thing.

"If it isn't too uncomfortable for you, we could do that," he agreed.

"Okay, I can't believe I'm about to confess this and, if you tell anyone I said it, I'll beat you to within an inch of your life. But, sometimes it feels nice to just be held close all night long."

"Can't say I've had enough experience to know."

She frowned at him, tilting her head to one side. "Really?"

"Oh, come on, Ash. We live together. You can't have missed the fact that I don't have any kind of a social-life."

"I always just kind of figured you were, you know, discreet about it."

"Nope. Nothing to be discreet _about_."

He shrugged. It was normally a sensitive issue for him, given his age and his very real appreciation of the fairer sex, but with Ashley, he didn't mind discussing it that much. He just felt so _safe_ with her.

"Nothing?" She raised an eyebrow, looking bemused. "As in _nothing at all?_"

"Please, do _not_ start teasing me…"

"No, Henry. I think it's sweet that you're waiting for the right woman."

_Already found her, actually. Just too gutless to let her know._ He smiled down at her.

"You ready for bed, or did you want to stay up for awhile longer?"

"No, bed's fine," she answered, pulling off her shirt.

She was wearing a sports-bra but, still, _wow_… He cleared his throat a little nervously. She frowned with confusion for a moment, then her eyes widened and she clutched the t-shirt to her chest.

"Sorry, Henry. Guess I wasn't thinking. I always sleep in sweat pants and a sports bra. You know, in case I get dragged out of bed in the middle of the night to defend the Sanctuary from invaders. Not fun to do with everything hanging out. I'll… put this back on."

Henry took a few moments to recover from the mental image of Ashley fighting with 'everything hanging out'.

"Yeah," he whispered, nodding. "That's probably a good idea."

For any number of reasons.

"I'm sorry." She shook her head, coloring slightly as she pulled the shirt back on.

"No problem. It's good to know you feel that comfortable around me. I think."

She gave him a winning smile. _Very_ winning.

"So, uh…"

He went and turned off his computer monitor, then returned to the bed, careful to stick to his side. Ashley promptly tore down _that_ boundary by snuggling up against him.

"Thanks, Henry."

"Hey, no problem." He did his best to suppress what was probably a dumb-ass grin as he reached to turn the light off. "Wake me up if you need to talk or anything."

"You're the best." She shifted enough to kiss his cheek, then snuggled down against his chest again.

He smiled to himself. "Night, Ash."

To his surprise, Ashley fell asleep quite quickly. Either not as bothered as she had seemed, or truly comforted by his presence. He liked to think it was the later, but either one was fine by him. Just so long as she wasn't suffering. He kissed the top of her head, then squirmed enough to find a comfortable position that still involved cradling an Ashley against your chest.

Smiling to himself, he let sleep claim him, reveling in the chance to hold his best friend close and tight and…

"Love you, Ash," he whispered as sleep finally claimed him.

It must have been a dream when he heard a whispered, "Love you, too, Hen."

0101010

Henry woke first, and instantly froze. Ashley was still sound asleep, resting comfortably in his arms, snuggled into his chest. He smiled and relaxed, enjoying the proximity. And, to be entirely honest, it wasn't all about comforting Ashley. Even if that _was_ a very nice bonus.

Ashley awoke a little more slowly, yawning and stretching and looking around.

"_What the hell?_"

She tensed in his arms and he immediately let go.

"Easy, Ash! It's only me. Remember, you slept here last night?"

She took a moment to orient herself, then relaxed. "Sorry. Is this… awkward?"

"Only if we let it be."

"Then we won't." Smiling brightly, she leaned over and kissed his cheek. "Thank you, Henry. I kind of think I needed that."

"Glad to help. Would talking help more?"

"I don't really know. Think we could stay like this for a minute?"

"Sure. It's early. No one else will be up for hours."

"Good." Ashley tightened her hold on his shirt and buried her face more thoroughly in his chest.

"Want to talk about it?" he offered again.

"No. Just want to feel _normal_ for a second."

"Normal can be slightly overrated," he noted, but he put his arms around her and kissed the top of her head.

She looked up, startled, for a moment, then once more rested her head against his chest.

"This is nice."

"Yes," he agreed.

"Should that worry us?"

"No," he lied. "It's kind of normal to like being close to friends."

"How would _you_ know? You don't _have_ friends."

"Well, _you're_ my friend and I like being close to you. Don't see how that could be a bad thing." A little _frightening_, but never bad. "Besides, it's not like you have that many friends yourself, aside from the occasional arms dealer. Don't know that either of us is in a position to say what is and isn't normal."

"No, guess not." She lay still for a few moments, then looked up at him again. "Henry?"

"Yeah, Ash?"

"Is this going to be a one-time thing?"

Ooh, _very_ good question. He swallowed hard.

"I think that kind of depends on you. I wouldn't say no to a repeat. Last night was the best I've slept in years."

She smiled playfully. "Then I think I'll be dropping by more often."

He smiled because her smile was just that infectious. "Better be careful. People might start getting ideas."

"Like I've _ever_ cared about what people think."

"Uh, yeah, speaking of what people _think_. Would you mind, you know, _not_ telling anyone else what I told you last night?"

"The virgin thing?"

"Uh, yeah. That one."

He felt his cheeks color and could not quite manage eye-contact. She was just so… Crap, there just weren't _words_ for what she was.

"I won't tell if you don't tell."

"Thanks." He hesitated as her words sank in. "Tell _what_?"

Her smile turned wry. "Come on. You really think my lifestyle's conducive to having a social life? _Dating?_" She made a face. "Not so much, Henry."

He stared at her. Was she actually trying to tell him that _she_ had never… It just didn't seem possible that someone that amazing could still be… On the other hand, she had a point about what living and working at the Sanctuary did to one's romantic prospects. Besides, she _did_ have a habit of holding herself apart. To a lesser extent, so did he. You didn't want someone to get hurt because they were close to you. He was curious, but not about to press the issue.

"Your private life is nobody's business unless you decide to make it their business."

"Thanks, Henry."

"Hey, my pleasure."

They lay there in silence for a couple of minutes before it occurred to Henry that Ashley was, effectively, putting her life in his hands. He could wolf out at any moment and here she was lying in repose with him, without so much as her favorite sidearm.

He felt irrationally angry and struggled to suppress it. But he could not ignore the thoughts that led to that anger in the first place.

"Ash, I don't think this is such a good idea," he managed, voice shaking.

She looked up at him with a slightly hurt expression. "Because of the awkwardness factor?"

"Because of the 'I could turn into a monster any second' factor! It's _dangerous_!"

"No," Ashley shook her head and reached up to touch his cheek lightly. Not exactly a caress, but not far off, either. "I'm safe with you. Always have been, always _will _be."

He closed his eyes as the tender touch rocked him right down to the soul, but could not entirely suppress his dread.

"That presupposes an awful lot."

"Not really. You're not a monster. You just need new meds or something. Mom will figure this out."

Her faith was touching, but also kind of terrifying. He would die if anything happened to Ashley. To be the one _responsible_ for that? His hands tightened spasmodically around her.

She looked up at him, smiling. "It's going to be okay, Henry. I promise."

He smiled, too, blinking hard. "I wish I could believe you."

"Have faith," she suggested. "I do. My present feelings for her aside, Mom's smart. She _will_ figure this out. She'll find a way." She patted his chest and straightened. "It's getting late. We should get moving."

She sounded reluctant to go and that was plain gratifying. But, given his concern about wolfing out on her, more cuddling was probably unwise.

He smiled and climbed out of bed, offering her his hand as she rose. Ashley smiled right back, giving his hand a gentle squeeze before letting it go.

"Breakfast?" she offered.

"Sounds good," he agreed. "I am _starving_."

"Hungry like the wolf, Henry?"

He groaned. "_That_ was terrible."

"I thought it was fitting." She shrugged. "Like the lyrics: I feel your heart, you're just a moment behind."

His jaw dropped. When he had ratcheted it shut again, he cleared his throat. "So… breakfast?"

Her smile faded slightly, but she nodded. "Sounds good. Let's go. Uh, thanks for last night."

"That's what friends are for," he answered, slinging a friendly arm around her shoulder. When he recovered from the fact that she didn't deck him for it, he started walking.

Ashley leaned into him a little as they walked. "New day, new possibilities."

"That's profound, coming from you."

"I have my moments. They just happen to be few and far between." She shrugged and playfully nudged him with her hip.

He stumbled and told himself it was because Ashley was _strong_, not because of any physical reaction to bumping hips with Ashley.

"Easy there," she laughed, reaching out to help steady him. "Skittish much?"

"Sorry, you just caught me off-guard."

She grinned. "Got to keep you on your toes somehow."

"Go beat up on someone your own size. I'm sure there are a couple of munchkins down in the Shoe who might be up for it."

"Hey!" She punched him on the arm. "Did we not establish that you're no longer allowed to call me things like munchkin and squirt when I was still a teenager? As I recall, it involved a fairly thorough beating."

"Actually, it was a wrestling-match and the pleasure was _all_ mine."

"Freak," she muttered.

"Takes one to know one."

"Point." She shrugged.

"Still friends?"

"Always."

He smiled. "Good. Come on, let's go get some breakfast. If you promise to be a good girl, I'll even make you blueberry pancakes."

"So, all I had to do was sleep with you and now you're willing to make breakfast for me?"

He grinned. "Membership has its perks, Ash."

Which was when they rounded the corner and found themselves face to face with an understandably shocked-looking Will. Henry winced, but it could have been worse. It _could_ have been Magnus.

"It's… not what you think?" Ashley tried, but the blush on her face did very little to make them seem innocent.

"Hey." Will smiled and held up both hands in a pacifying gesture. "What goes on between two consenting adults is no business of mine." Still smiling and holding up his hands, he backed away.

"_So_ not good," Henry muttered.

"Yeah, that's putting it lightly. How long you figure it'll be until my mom comes to have a little _conversation_ with us?"

"Don't know. Will's a pretty decent guy. He might not say anything."

"You could be right. So, pancakes were promised."

"And pancakes you shall have." He took a step backwards and bowed low, gesturing for her to precede him. "After you, Ash."

Grinning, Ashley led the way into the kitchen. Henry took a moment to admire the view before following.

**End**


	6. 5 Tea For Two

**Timeline:** post-"Nubbins"

**Tea for Two**

Will was surprised to hear quiet music coming from the 'family' kitchen. He had not expected to find anyone awake at that hour, was not sure if he was up to facing anyone else after those horrible dreams. But to flee would have been to admit how unsettled the nightmares had left him, and he refused to do _that_ either.

Hotel California was playing quietly on a radio resting on the counter, and Magnus sat at the little kitchen-table with her back to the door with a teapot in front of her.

She looked around at his entrance, her eyes heavily-lidded as though she was either just about to fall asleep or had only recently come awake.

"Oh, good morning, Will," she greeted him with a yawn. "Couldn't sleep?" She climbed to her feet and opened a cabinet. "Join me for a cup of tea."

He shook his head. "I wouldn't want to intrude."

"Nonsense," she answered, bringing down a white-and-blue-patterned cup and bringing it back to the table. "If I minded an intrusion, I wouldn't be sitting in one of the public areas," she pointed out, filling the cup with pale tea. "Here, this will help you sleep. Chamomile with just a hint of lavender."

He stared at her curiously, sitting down and accepting the proffered cup. "Not proper British tea?"

She smiled faintly. "Proper British tea has too much caffeine. I would like to get _some_ sleep tonight. Enjoy."

"Thanks." He took a sip of tea. "That's nice."

"Yes, I find it doesn't even need sweetener. Still, there's honey if you'd like."

"No, that's okay. It's good like this."

"As you wish," she agreed, taking another sip, closing her eyes and obviously savoring the taste.

"Insomnia?" he ventured.

"Or something very much like it. I had no difficulty _getting_ to sleep, but I woke up and found myself unable to relax again. I thought a cup of tea might be in order. You?"

"Bad dream. I thought I'd warm up some milk. But this'll probably work just as well."

"I should think so. It's been helping me sleep for over a hundred years now."

"Can't argue with a track-record like that," he answered. "You have this problem often? Waking up and not being able to get back to sleep?"

"It very much depends on the nature of my dreams on a given night. If I only dream about work, I seldom wake and _never_ have difficulty sleeping again."

"And the rest of the time?"

"Trying to profile me, Doctor Zimmerman?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Just worried about my friend."

"Well, in that case, Will, the dreams that I have which do _not_ relate to work are of a decidedly more _pleasant_ nature."

Her tone of voice made him color. "Yeah, sorry, that was none of my business, was it?"

"You are my friend at least as much as you are my employee, Will," she answered. "And, as this facility's psychiatrist, you have every right to be concerned about the mental… _eccentricities_ of the staff."

"Even you?"

"_Especially_ me, I should hope," she answered, refilling her cup. "Considering that the wellbeing of each of the rest of you rests largely upon my own shoulders. I like to think that I can trust you to act as a sort of watchdog when it comes to my behavior."

"You think you _need_ one?" he asked, surprised.

"Hardly at present, but who can speak to the future?" She smiled. "While it's true that I don't _age_ normally, it's hard to say what psychiatric effects living this long might eventually create."

"You think that's going to be a problem?"

"Well, I certainly _hope_ not. But who's to say for certain? My condition is one mass of uncertainties. I could radically age overnight or wake up stricken with dementia tomorrow. On the other hand, I may ring in my five hundredth birthday whole and sound."

"And you really have no idea which it will be?"

"Not the faintest clue," she admitted with a shrug. "I do my best not to think about it."

"Does it work?"

"Quite frequently."

"But not tonight?"

"On the contrary. I find myself remarkably unassailed by doubts this evening."

"But you still can't sleep?"

"After all these years, nightmares are _easy_ to dismiss, Will. Pleasant dreams, however, raise their own set of questions."

He considered this for a moment. "Would you like to talk about it?"

"I'm not honestly sure," she admitted.

"Well, I won't push. But if you ever _do_ need to talk. About _anything_."

Magnus smiled at him. "I appreciate that, Will, I really do."

"But you won't take me up on it?"

She waggled her hand in a noncommittal gesture. "After more than a century of keeping my own counsel, it's become a difficult pattern to break."

"I'm sure it is, but I'd point out that 'the talking cure' has proven efficacy. It's been around almost as long as _you_ have."

Another smile. "I'll bear that in mind, Will. And, I should hope that it goes without saying that my door is always open to you should _you_ need to talk. I imagine all of this must still be rather overwhelming at times."

"You can say that again," he agreed, nodding emphatically. "Though none of it seems to faze Henry or Ashley."

"Yes, well Ashley and Henry have a habit of forgetting that there are people who were not born and raised to this life. Having been introduced to it as an adult myself, I can probably relate a little better, even if it _has_ been years since I allowed myself to be genuinely surprised by much of anything."

"_Nothing_ surprises you? Come on, Magnus, there must be _something_?"

"Well, I _do_ admit that the Nubbins took me somewhat unawares." She smiled and refilled her cup. "Of course, I am so seldom in anything _but_ complete control of myself…"

"Even with the Nubbins, you seemed to be in more control than the rest of us."

"Well, I _have_ had a century more than the rest of you to practice suppressing certain natural impulses. It was _still_ quite unsettling."

"Hey, you weren't the only one losing control a little there. None of us were at our best."

"No, I suppose none of us were."

She looked as though she wanted to question him on exactly which form his 'losing control' had taken. Fortunately, she seemed to think better of it, for which Will was grateful. He was not sure exactly what form 'indignant mother' took in Magnus' case, but he _was_ sure that he didn't want to see it directed against himself.

"Are you settling in well?" Magnus asked after a few moments of relatively comfortable silence.

"Pretty well," he agreed. "Establishing a routine. Getting to know the patients. Sleeping more nights than not."

"I'm glad. It must make a nice change for you."

"I could get used to routinely getting a full night's sleep," he admitted, nodding.

She smiled and offered, "I can prescribe you a sedative."

"I'm not sure the insomnia's that bad anymore," he answered. "But thanks. I'll remember the offer should I ever need it."

"You do that." She topped off his tea. "You should consider getting back to bed."

"So should _you_," he countered.

She hesitated for a moment, before admitting, "I sometimes dread those few minutes before sleep comes, alone in the darkness with no company but your own thoughts and feelings."

"Know that feeling," he agreed. "All your guards are down and there's no holding back any fear or memory that wants to present itself."

"Precisely." She sipped at her tea, expression troubled.

"Want to talk about it?" he offered again.

She shook her head. "I think I'll just find some work to occupy myself with."

"You can't stave off sleep indefinitely," he pointed out.

"Nor can _you_, Will."

"No, but…"

"No, but," she agreed. "Fancy a few hours down in the shooting range?"

"You know, it's funny. All those years working for the feds and the cops, dealing with murderers on a day-to-day basis. And I don't have to learn to use a gun until I join a private research facility."

"God has a sense of humor, Will. Never doubt that."

"Oh, I don't," he assured her. "Only took about three days in your world for me to figure _that_ out."

"Do you ever regret it? Agreeing to come work for me?"

"Magnus, everything about this job and this place is completely strange and usually pretty terrifying, too. But it's also the most rewarding thing I've ever done. I think, for _that_, I can ignore a little personal discomfort."

She smiled. "I'm glad, Will. Now, why don't you try to get some sleep, hmm?"

"Easier said than done. I _really_ don't see getting back to sleep any time soon."

"Well, in that case, I believe I have the ultimate cure for insomnia just waiting. There's a great deal of filing and collating that needs to be taken care of rather badly. Between the two of us, it should take some hours and incite considerable fatigue."

"Sounds like a plan. Lead the way."

Smiling, she climbed to her feet again, tightening the belt of her bathrobe and gesturing for him to follow. He jumped up and fell into step beside her, eager to get started.

He normally hated routine clerical duties, but Magnus had a point. Filing really _was_ a great cure for insomnia.

**End**


	7. 6 Not Her Father's Daughter

**Timeline:** Shortly after "Edward"

_**Not**_** Her Father's Daughter**

"Just a second," Will called in response to the tapping on his bedroom door. He shrugged on his bathrobe before opening the door. "Ashley?"

"Hey. I didn't wake you, did I?" she asked, looking rattled.

"No, you didn't wake me," he assured her. "What's going on?"

"Uh, you said we could talk. If I ever needed to, you know, _talk_."

"I _did_ say that," he agreed, stepping back to allow her into the room. "The offer stands. I was just about to have a cup of tea. Care to join me?"

She frowned. "Thought you were a coffee guy."

"At this hour, I don't need all that caffeine. I struggle with insomnia sometimes."

Ashley entered the bedroom, looking around curiously. He had made it practical with a small refrigerator, hot-plate, and microwave so he could work through without needing to break for meals, but he had not really added any personal touches yet. Two chairs were arranged intimately close before the fireplace, and Ashley's eyes fell on them.

"You get many patients coming to you here?"

"My policy is to have my door open 24/7 and the guests here know that. You want that tea? It's chamomile." At her nod, he filled two cups with water from the jug. "Sugar? Milk?"

"No thanks. Just the tea's fine."

She walked over to the fireplace and picked up a poker, stirring up the ashes. Will watched her for a moment, watching her free hand clench and unclench a couple of times.

"You're upset," he observed, placing two cups of tea in the microwave and turning it on. He closed the door and moved to join her. "Did something happen?"

"I've been having some dreams lately. Bad ones."

"And you had one just now?" he asked, bending to pick up a few logs and throw them onto the fire.

"Uh, yeah." She nodded, looking embarrassed.

"You're fully clothed," he noted.

"Coming to you at this hour was bad enough. I wasn't _about_ to show up at your door in my skivvies."

He gave her an understanding smile and went to retrieve their tea. "Have a seat. You sure you don't want anything in yours?"

"Sugar gives me a buzz and I'm lactose intolerant. If I want to get any sleep at all tonight, I'd better take it plain."

"It's good stuff," he told her, handing her a mug and gesturing for her to sit down. "The big guy gets it from this online place, Mountain Rose, I think it's called."

"Mountain Rose, yeah." She nodded. "He's a real herbalism nut. Natural remedies, all that good stuff."

She accepted the tea with a weak smile and sat down, blowing to cool it. Or possibly just to buy herself time before she had to speak. Will sat down, sipping his tea. The fresh flowers made it tasty enough that there was no real need for additives like sugar and milk. And Magnus had been right; it _did_ help him sleep. After a few sips, he put his cup down and just smiled expectantly at Ashley. He knew the pattern. The same people who were reluctant to start talking would quickly find the silence even more unbearable than the conversation they were reluctant to initiate in the first place.

Of course, Ashley Magnus was _not_ like other girls.

She returned his look with a steady gaze of her own that soon had him shifting uncomfortably. Which was a neat trick to be able to do to a man whose career had been spent evaluating hardened killers.

He cleared his throat. "I've got some chocolate in the fridge," he offered. "Excellent for your serotonin levels. Might make sleeping easier later on."

She closed her eyes and nodded her head, just once. "That would be great, Will."

He climbed to his feet and retrieved the chocolate bar, handing it to her before sitting back down.

"You've got something you need to get off your chest, but you're scared to say it out loud."

"Something like that," she admitted, making a production of unwrapping the candy as an excuse not to look at him.

"Because, sometimes, admitting a thing out loud makes it seem more real?" he ventured.

"When you can't talk about it to your Mom or your best friend, when you're scared to confide it to the resident shrink…" She broke off a large chunk of chocolate and crammed it into her mouth.

"Well, I hope it goes without saying that anything you confide in me doesn't go beyond that door? And I like to think that our relationship is a little more than just a potential patient to the 'resident shrink'."

"I know," she whispered. "It's still hard."

"I see. Can you tell me _why_ it's difficult to articulate?"

"Makes it more real, like you said."

"And real is bad for this? You aren't a woman who likes to admit to having weaknesses," he ventured. "But no one is completely free of flaws and fears."

"I've got plenty of both," she answered ruefully.

"I think we all do, Ashley. You aren't unique in that. Unique in a lot of other ways, but not in the fundamental ones."

"My father was Jack the Ripper, Will," she pointed out, staring into her tea. "You honestly think I can ever be _normal_?"

"You'll never be normal. You're a special woman. Strong and brave and…"

"And violent," she continued when he hesitated for a moment. "Impulsive, rash, temperamental." She looked up at him, putting her tea down. "I fight. It's what I do, what I'm _good_ at…"

"Yes, and you do a lot of good that way."

"Sure I do, but the good's incidental." She closed her eyes, then rubbed her face hard with both hands. "I don't fight because Mom needs someone to fill that role. I fight because I _like_ it."

"You're hardly alone in that," he pointed out. "A lot of people enjoy the martial arts."

"I'm not talking about katas and belts and bags and pulled punches. I'm talking about knock-down, drag-out struggles to the death. I _enjoy_ those. Hell, sometimes I get off on them!"

"Which can't be easy for you," he observed. "Not when you try so hard _not_ to be like your father."

"In my dreams, I _am_ like him. I do those same things and I _enjoy_ them! What does that say about me?" she demanded, her voice full of self-loathing.

"Honestly? It says that you're _terrified_ that you've inherited some genetic legacy of evil. But that's crap, Ashley, it _is_. Sure, you're predisposed to enjoy a certain degree of violence and rough play."

She blanched at those words and Will realized that the phrase 'rough play' could be taken a few ways. He was not sure he wanted to get into the reasons why she had such a visible reaction to the words, not unless it was something she decided she needed to discuss with him. He plowed on.

"What makes you different from Druitt is what you _do_ with the impulses. We've _all_ got them. The difference between you and him is something called sublimation."

She frowned. "What's that?"

"It's one of the few decent ideas Freud had in his career. Sublimation is when we channel destructive impulses into a constructive outlet. In your case, saving lives by taking out dangerous abnormals. It's _not_ a bad thing that you do, Ashley."

"I know," she sighed. "But I come back down from that high and I just feel so… _wrong_! Unnatural."

"You aren't unnatural, Ashley. You're one of the most genuine, _honest_ women I know. Of course, I could be slightly biased. As I recall, the first time we met, you saved my life."

"That was just instinct taking over."

"Saving innocent lives is an _instinct_ and you're still worried about your own humanity?"

"Stop trying to make me feel better," she muttered.

"Saving lives comes naturally to you. Trying to make people feel better comes naturally to me. We're as God made us, Ashley. You really think we should try to fight that?"

"I don't know," she admitted. "I just… wish I could sleep through the night."

"I can give you a mild sedative," he offered. "It should make your sleep more restful."

"Don't know how I feel about psych meds."

"You don't have a mental disorder, Ashley. You have a perfectly natural response to what's been an insane couple of months for you. There's no more shame in taking a tranquilizer for a nightmare than there is in taking an aspirin for a headache."

She shook her head. "Mom keeps the meds under lock and key. I couldn't get at them if I wanted to."

"I'm a doctor, too. She gave me a copy of the key. I tell her I took the pills for a patient, she never needs to know who."

"And I'd be able to sleep without the dreams?"

He nodded. "Probably, yes."

"Then let's do it. I'm on a beta-blocker. Is that going to be a problem?"

"No," he assured her. "If it were an MAOI, we'd have a problem. As it is, the beta-blocker will boost the effect of the tranquilizer, but not to any dangerous or unpleasant degree." He rose and fished out his key to the medicine cabinet. "Shall we?"

Ashley followed him silently down to the infirmary, taking the pill he offered and dry-swallowing.

"I don't ever want to be like him, Will," she whispered after she had. "Don't suppose you have a pill for _that_?"

"Numerous pills moderate mood and personality. If you think that's something you'd like to pursue, I'd be open to discussing your options with you. But psychotherapy would probably be just as viable an approach, and one with _far _fewer side-effects."

"I don't think I'll be able to get to sleep alone tonight," she muttered quickly.

Will stared at her with wide eyes. "Uh, that's… complicated. The minute you came to me in my capacity as a psychiatrist--"

Her eyes widened and she blushed. "No, I didn't mean _that_. Seriously, I just don't think I can handle being alone right now."

"You're welcome to spend some time sitting up with me, or I can sit up with you," he offered. "Or I can talk to Henry."

She frowned, a little _too_ defensively. "What makes you think I'd want Henry involved?"

"He _is_ your best friend," Will pointed out. "He'd sit up with you in a heartbeat."

"Could _you_ talk to him? I mean, without telling him what we talked about?"

"I'd point out that Henry, more than anyone, knows what it is to have and to _fear_ having a dark side to your nature. But I can talk to him without bringing it up, sure."

"I… I'd appreciate it." She cleared her throat, looking embarrassed. "When I was little, I'd have nightmares, and I'd go straight to Henry. Not even to Mom, but to _Henry_. He was a teenager, didn't have to give me the time of day, you know? But he'd take me in his lap and make this wolfish growling noise like he was chasing the demons away, and then I could _sleep_ again."

Will smiled faintly. "You're lucky to have each other." He touched her cheek lightly with the back of two fingers. "You go get yourself ready for bed. I'll talk to Henry."

"You're a prince, Will. You know that?"

"I'm a doctor. I do what needs to be done to make my patients well. Go ahead, Ashley. I'll talk to Henry."

"Thanks." She kissed his cheek, then turned and left the infirmary.

0101010

"You _knew_ about the nightmares?" Will asked, staring at Henry.

The werewolf gave a defensive shrug. "You can hear her moaning sometimes, crying. Man, I'd have brought it to you if I'd thought she wanted you to know, but I didn't think she wanted _anyone_ to know, including me, so I kept my mouth shut."

"She mentioned how you used to sit up with her when she was a little girl," Will told him.

"Protective big brother. Yeah, that's _exactly_ how I want Ash thinking of me," he sighed.

Will frowned sympathetically. Henry knew his crush on Ashley was kind of hard to miss. Thus far, Will had been kind enough to refrain from calling him on it.

"I can tell her you were asleep, or…"

"No. I'll go to her," Henry assured him. "You need anything else with her tonight?"

"Nah. I think she's done with me for now. But if the two of you _should_ need me, you know where I can be found."

"Twenty-four/seven, for which I, at least, am _grateful_." Henry gave his friend a smack on the shoulder. "I'll take good care of her, Will."

"Thanks, man. But, seriously, if I'm needed, the hour doesn't matter."

"You won't be needed," Henry assured him. "So you might as well get some sleep. This is a ritual with the two of us that goes _way_ back. Sometimes it takes a monster to chase away all the _other_ monsters."

"That's fine. But you know where to find me if _either_ of you needs anything."

Which Henry supposed was Will's way of saying that he knew how the werewolf felt about the monster hunter and that he would be there to help pick up the pieces should Ashley break Henry's heart. Well, since Henry was not fool enough to offer any such thing to a woman like Ashley, there would be no need. He gave Will a last reassurance, saw the shrink as far as his own door, then went to Ashley's, knocking.

The door opened so quickly that Henry had no doubt that Ashley had been waiting right on the other side. She was dressed in her favorite sweatpants and tank, and her defensive expression was replaced by a smile the minute she saw Henry.

"I'm sorry I had Will wake you…"

"Time was you woke me yourself, instead of going through an intermediary." He smiled down at her, turning sideways to squeeze into the room past her without making physical contact. "Guess you need to talk?"

"No. Just need to feel a familiar heartbeat and smell a familiar smell. Do you mind?"

"If I did, would I _be_ here?" Sighing, he opened his arms to her. When she had stepped into his embrace and half-collapsed against him, he asked, "What's this about, huh?"

"Will didn't tell you?"

"Nah. Just said doctor/patient privilege."

"Been having these nightmares. Bad ones."

"Oh, Ash." He tightened his hold on her, steering her towards the bed. "Come on, baby-doll."

"Thanks, Hen," she whispered, letting herself be led.

She was bigger than she had been as a little girl, but he was bigger than he had been as a teenager, too. So he climbed into the bed, his back against the headboard, and waited for her to settle down next to him, resting one cheek against his chest. Sighing softly, he wrapped his arms around her, smiling as she did the same to him.

"You going to make me sing to you, like in the old days?" he chuckled.

She shook her head without lifting it from his chest. "I sometimes don't know what I'd do without you, Henry. I'm glad Mom rescued you that day."

"Can't complain about it too much myself," he answered, settling her more comfortably. After a good five minutes spent in mutual silence, he told her, "I don't want all the answers, not even _most _of them. But if you could give me a general idea what this is about…"

"My father."

Henry sighed and kissed the top of her head. Ashley had been taking the news _so_ hard…

"Tell me I'm not like him, Henry. I need to know that."

"Hell, Ash, of course you aren't," he assured her, squeezing tight. "You're _nothing_ like that lunatic. You're so good and so… _pure_."

She laughed bitterly, but made no attempt to pull herself free. "Pure? That's almost as good as Will's."

"Why? What did _he_ call you?"

"Honest."

"He's got a point." Henry kissed the top of her head again. "Get some sleep. I'll stay with you."

"You don't have to."

"No, but I _want_ to. So just relax. I'm here, baby sister."

She turned her head just enough to smile up at him. "You don't honestly still think of me that way?"

"Ash," he admitted, shaking his head. "Half the time I'm not sure _what_ I think of you."

"That good or bad?"

"Depends on whether you're me or not. I adore you, always. Just… some other thoughts get muddled. Which doesn't matter, 'cause I'll _always _love you. _And_ be here to protect you. I mean, Will's great and everything. But _we_ are family."

She sighed softly in response to this, cuddling closer. Before long, she was asleep in his arms, resting against his chest, her own rising and falling in a steady rhythm. As it had been so many times when she was a little girl.

But it was different with Ashley the _adult_. For one thing, it was satisfying on a whole different level. For another… No, the one difference was enough. Family was family, but it came in _many_ permutations. How he felt about her, how he wished she felt about him, none of that changed what they shared, what they had shared for almost twenty-four years now.

He smiled and closed his eyes, breathing in her scent. It had changed in recent years, not like her mother's. Magnus gave off a smell that reminded Henry of walking into the archives, immersing himself in books that were sometimes centuries old. It was _old_ but pleasant, full of history, and still invigorating for a man like him. Almost precisely like going home.

Ashley's own scent was different. Younger and more alive. Reminiscent of fresh-cut grass in a way that had nothing to do with the actual scent but everything to do with the way that scent made you _feel_. Swinging in a hammock, going over specs on your computer tablet. You felt welcomed, like you really _belonged_. She had never viewed him as a freak, never _would_. Which only reinforced the sense of integration into your surroundings.

He kissed the top of her head again, shifting just a tad to get more comfortable. Ashley mumbled a protest at this, throwing one leg over his and tightening her hold. Henry smiled and closed his own eyes, just enjoying the physical and emotional intimacy of it all. He kissed the top of her head again.

"Night, Ashley."

"Night, Henry," she yawned.

His eyes widened. "Sorry. Didn't realize you were still awake."

"Not for much longer. You should get some rest, too."

"You don't mind if I stay?"

"Nah, you're good here." The she lifted one hand to his chest, lightly patting him over the heart.

"Yes," he agreed, smiling. "I _am_. Sweet dreams, Ash."

"Don't see how they could be anything _but_…"

**End**


	8. 7 What Becomes of the BrokenHearted?

**Timeline:** Post "Revelations, Part 2"

**What Becomes of the Broken-Hearted?**

The city was beautiful at night. Magnus frequently found herself up on the roof after dark, just watching the lights. Frequently, she marveled at how far the world had come in her lifetime. At other times, her view on 'progress' was more cynical; in this new, advanced and 'accepting' age, abnormals were no better off than they had been in the Victorian Era. In some ways, given the current state of affairs, they were _worse_ off now.

Tonight, her thoughts were not quite so far-reaching. She felt only one thing looking out over the city: aching loneliness.

"Helen?"

"John," she greeted him with a sigh, not turning around or stepping down from the parapet. "The others asleep?"

"All but the two of us."

"They're taking this hard."

"So are we," he pointed out, ascending the battlement to stand beside her. "Your view is beautiful."

"You should see it in the good times."

He sighed. "How are you?"

"My heart is breaking, John."

He touched her cheek. "And your skin is rapidly becoming chilled. Come inside, Helen."

"I can't. It feels so claustrophobic in there. I can't abide feeling claustrophobic _and_ alone at once."

"You aren't alone. You have the others. And you have _me_."

"Just not the way I _used_ to. We can't go back to the way we used to be, John. You know that as well as I do."

"No, we can't take back what we had. But maybe we can still make a new beginning?"

"Do you honestly expect me to fall in love with you again? _Now?_"

"In light of everything that's happening? No. Of course not. But there's still the future to look to. Maybe, once everything is set right…"

"Maybe," she agreed weakly. "But it will _never_ be the same."

"No. We're both older and wiser now. Naturally it will be different. Perhaps it might even be _better_ the next time around. Hmm?"

"It would be nice," she admitted, resting her cheek against his shoulder. "But it hardly seems likely."

"We both have our gifts, Helen, but neither of us can see the future. Don't give up on us. I haven't."

"Nor have I," she admitted, biting back a smile.

"Yet you still feel alone?"

"How could I _fail_ to?"

"A valid point." He wrapped an arm around her shoulder, drawing her close without forcing a hug on her.

"I'm frightened, John," she admitted.

"So am I. But I have faith in you and your little band. If anyone can make this right, it's _you_."

"Thank you, John."

"My pleasure, Helen. Now, come. I'll see you to your door."

"I don't want to sleep alone."

"Then you won't."

"John, I can't promise--"

"I understand. And if company is all you want, it _is_ all I'll give you. Now, come," he repeated.

Grateful for his understanding, she let him guide her back inside and to her bedroom. "Are you sure you don't mind?"

"It's been a long time since I've shared your bed," he admitted slowly. "But I'll take my privileges each in turn as you see fit to award them to me. I'll be a perfect gentleman, I assure you."

"I know you will." She smiled. "You may have changed in many substantial ways, but not in the ones that really count."

"Let's go inside," he suggested. "If anyone were to see me at your bedroom door, it might give scandal."

Her smiled widened, her first genuine one in weeks. "You never _used_ to mind giving scandal."

"Nor did _you_, as I recall, but times change," he answered, ushering her inside.

"Are you sure you're content with the fact that nothing will happen tonight?"

"I wouldn't go so far as to describe myself as content, but you have my word. I _will_ be a gentleman."

"Of that I have no doubt, but I have no wish to add to your pain over other matters."

"If you want me here, it means you still care. How can _that_ give me any pain?" He reached out and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. "You'll come to me when you're ready. And, it goes without saying, I _will_ be waiting."

She closed her eyes. "Thank you for understanding."

"When I feel precisely as you do, how could I _help_ but understand?" he asked, helping her out of her robe. Helping her into bed and tucking her in just the way she liked, he told her, "We'll get through this, make things right. One way or another."

"I wish I could believe you," she sighed. "Come to bed, John."

He climbed under the blankets and drew her against his chest, just like old times. "Thank you for letting me be here at this time."

"I could hardly turn you away even if my love for you _had_ died," she answered, wrapping her arms around him and cuddling close. She barely managed to stifle a sob. "Oh, John, I'm so sorry!"

"No, Helen. You have nothing to apologize for. We have only the Cabal to blame. Now _cry_, if that's what you need to do. I've shed my own share of tears over this nightmare."

"_Thank you,_" she breathed as the first of the tears started.

Within moments, she was clinging to her former fiancée, sobbing into his chest. John held her close, at first rocking her and murmuring soothingly. Eventually his sobs and tears mingled with her own as the two gave vent to a hundred years of loneliness and to one, far more recent, heartbreak.

Eventually, exhaustion exerted itself and darkness claimed her.

When she woke up, the bed was empty save for herself. There was a sheaf of paper sitting on her nightstand.

_Thank you, my dear Helen. I think we both needed that. But now, I think, we both need a few days alone, a little space. I won't be long and I won't stop searching. I love you with all my heart, and it is a relief to know that you still have a place in yours for me. _

_I am ever yours,_

_-- M J Druitt_

Magnus sighed as she reread the letter, shaking her head and climbing to her feet. Hardly the first time she had woken up alone after a night in bed with John. As in those days, she knew that he would be back in his own good time. Whether he would be back for _her_ was debatable, but he _would_ be back. And _that_ was comforting beyond words.

**End**


End file.
